Time (1)

i think i have a garage fetish….~n~

She glanced at her watch with a faint scowl.

“I only have an hour,” she muttered, frowning. She glanced towards the garage where an assortment of dings and bangs were echoing. Pacing the tiny space, she watched the street lights come on, a long zipper of them stretching down the road. It was cold outside; her breath fogged the glass. Around the edges, frost was forming. The room was overly warm, perhaps to compensate for having to open and close the bay doors so often. Shrugging out of her coat, she folded it neatly, placing it over her small handbag. She looked at the calendar featuring some muscle car–and a very scantily clad model with silicone boobs. She shook her head, amazed that in this day and age men still found those fake things arousing. Why, even when laying down across the hood like that, the girls boobs stayed upright. It was annoying, not merely misogynistic, she thought.  Her boobs–breasts, she corrected herself quickly, though large, always kind of flopped to the side when she lay down. Not that she could picture herself draped that way, wearing nothing but three triangles of silk. She hugged herself and moved back to look out the window. Glancing at her watch, she noted eight minutes had passed.

He noticed her looking at the calendar. Funny how the chicks always glanced at it. Some frowned, some just kept looking, almost all wound up hugging or touching their own tits at some point. He watched her face, the way her mouth turned down in a frown, then zoomed the camera in to look at her tits. She had great natural ones, large and round. His mouth watered. 

Wondering what the fuck was taking so long–after all, it was just one tire she needed looked at–she peered into the gloomy garage. She didn’t hear anything now, and it felt…empty. Stepping through the doorway brought the tang of grease and other unknown automobile things. Her nose crinkled as she tried to sort them, but grease and oil, and ‘man sweat’ seemed to surround her. She peered over to where her car hung up in the air, the front right tire removed. Cars were strange things when they were suspended, she mused. But of the one fixing her tire, there wasn’t a trace.

“Hello?”

Her voice was low, and broke. She cleared her throat, tried again.

“Hello?”

The electric heater clicked on with a thud and bang, startling her. Hand to her throat, she whipped around as the heated blast spewed from the beast in the corner.  Geeze, she rolled her eyes at herself. A sound came from the far back of the garage. A door was half-closed, and she moved gingerly towards it, picking her way carefully across the dark floor. There was a splashing sound, she noted now. He was …washing up? She was confused, then annoyed as she glanced once more at her watch. Dammit! She’d told the girls she’d meet them for drinks at 6 and it was 5:47 now. She’d told the jerk that she only had an hour. A quick flush of annoyance rushed through her. Reaching out, she whipped open the door, only to freeze in shock.

He was pissing.

She wished she hadn’t seen how huge his cock was, how thick in his hand it was. How yellow the pee was as it zinged into the toilet. She stood for five, ten seconds in pure shock as he looked over his shoulder at her, unfazed.

“See something you like?”

His voice broke the spell, and she shook herself.

“Ohmygawd…I…Sorry…I…” Spinning on her heel she slapped at the door, which bounced from the latch and opened even wider. This was not happening. It just wasn’t. He tucked his cock away, zipping his pants, and moving to the sink to wash his hands. And still she stood staring.

“Door doesn’t close, you see,” he said, meeting her eyes in the mirror.

“And you sure did see, didn’t you?” The smile danced on his face, in his eyes. Tugging a paper towel from the dispenser, he turned as he swiped his hands with it. “Liked it, too. Didn’t you wonder for just a moment there…”

His eyes traveled down her body, stopping briefly on her breasts where the tiny vee of cleavage peeked out from her buttoned shirt. Her cranberry blouse highlighted the creamy valley, the round mounds of her breasts lifted nicely. Very, very nicely in his opinion.

“I..” she cleared her throat. “I wondered what was going on with my tire.”

Her eyes flashed down to his crotch. She didn’t mean for it to happen.

“Your mouth says tire, but every other bit says…”

“It doesn’t. I don’t. You’re wrong.”

Despite her words, she could feel her nipples crinkle tight, and knew the tell-tale bumps would be visible through the thinness of her blouse. To cross her arms would look defensive, so she kept them at her sides. Her belly fluttered, as she imagined the thickness of that shaft in his hand, moving towards her, impaling her, filling her. Taking her roughly as she imagined a mechanic would.

That was pretty judgmental. Amazed at the turn her thoughts were taking, she took a deep breath.

“I have an appointment to keep.”

“Your tire is patched, but I’m waiting for it to set. You go out on it now and it will blow again. I’ll be here for a while…I have a carburetor to tinker with.

If she wanted to play it cool, he could too.

“You can borrow my car, bring it back when your appointment is done. Your car should be ready in a bit.”

“What…what if my appointment is over and you’re closed?” She didn’t want to face him again. “I can just wait…”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want you to be late.” 

Sarcasm. She didn’t have to be physic to see that one.

“Okay, fine. I’ll be back in an hour or so. It’s a brief meeting.”

“That’s cool. Drive safe.”

He tossed her the keys to his ‘stang, watching on the monitor as she went into the foyer, and donned her jacket, tugging the long fall of hair from under it, then pulling on her gloves. He decided to give his cock a break and not watch her skirt ride up as she slid into his sports car. Turning, he went back to work.

 

About vanillamom

For 8 years--(EIGHT?!) nilla and M have been a D/s couple. I'm the "small s" side of that designation, as he often reminds me. I'm silly and prone to giggling at inopportune times. He's a wicked Sadist, who feeds me my drug of choice--pain. My brain is always spinning dirty and dark little fantasies, which I sometimes share with the world. Welcome to the nilla-verse. It's wet and slippery here...with a dragon or two lurking.
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7 Responses to Time (1)

  1. Kayla Lords says:

    Good God woman, and you say *I* get *YOU* worked up. I need more please….yes, I’m even willing to beg for it.

  2. monkey says:

    As a tried and true long time pony girl (the car not the fetish) I REALLY want to hear more. I love garages, some of the best times of my youth were in a garage with car parts and tools all around.

  3. Wordwytch says:

    Ohhhh…. So glad that I have more to read right away!

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